Chapter 2: Fan, Friend… and Something More

The concert didn’t end until nearly midnight.
Guiding the crowd that filled the hall safely out of the venue was also part of the security team’s job.

After directing the audience out in an orderly and efficient manner, the team members gathered one by one at the designated spot.
The team leader removed his earpiece and smiled warmly.

“Good work, everyone. You all did well.”

“Thank you for your hard work!”

“Yeah, yeah. Head on home.”

Han-geon walked out to the parking lot with the rest of the team.

Everyone’s faces were worn out with fatigue.

As he fumbled with his phone to call a taxi, Jinwoo placed a hand on Han-geon’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey, Han-geon. You going straight home? Let’s go together. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Oh—Jinwoo-hyung. Thank you.”

The area around the concert hall was crowded, and catching a taxi would’ve been difficult, so he was genuinely grateful.
The two of them chatted about the day’s work as the car sped along, laughing together.
Only then did the tension that had been gripping his body finally ease a little.
He’d worked event security more than a few times, yet for some reason he had been unusually nervous today.

Han-geon took out his phone and, as Jinwoo began humming along after switching to a radio channel, he carefully asked for permission.

“Hyung, I’m just going to check my phone for a moment.”

“Yeah, you brat. Why are you even asking? Do whatever you want.”

The moment Jinwoo replied, Han-geon quickly put a wireless earbud into his right ear and opened YouTube.
There probably wouldn’t be any high-quality fancams yet, but there would be tons of phone-shot videos.
Sure enough, the instant he typed in the three letters of “Cha Eun-gyeol,” footage from the very concert hall he had just worked at filled the screen.
He started by skimming through the comments first.

[2308XX #ChaEun-gyeol #Guest #Bittersweet_Concert]

→ Man – how can a person be that pretty? I’m losing it again today.
→ Chacha, my baby kitty, I love you……………
→ Ha… why am I only seeing this now?? Lost twelve minutes of my life ㅠㅠㅠㅠ
→ Why does he sing this well, seriously… ha, my baby
→ Waiting for the HD version hurry upㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ

Most of them were nothing but praise.
Smiling in satisfaction, Han-geon hit play without hesitation.
Listening to Eun-gyeol’s voice brought back the emotions he’d felt at the concert, his heart swelling all over again.
But then Han-geon’s expression abruptly twisted.
Here and there, comments that rubbed him the wrong way were mixed in.

→ I’ve seen him somewhere before—his personality is total f*cking trash lol
→ Ugh, here we go again, stop trolling and f*ck off

→ Doesn’t he just look like he’d be super messy? Lol. Since he’s an Alpha, he probably plays around with different Omegas.
→ You’re gonna get sued, for real. Check your mailbox in a few days.
→ Just wash your feet and go to sleep… and don’t cry at the police station begging for a settlement

“Is this person out of their mind…?”

Han-geon, who had been happily scrolling through the comments, slammed an angry downvote on the hateful one.
Under it, he wrote a simple, “Your singing was amazing today as well. Always cheering for you,” and felt oddly proud as he looked at the star of the video.

The concert had only ended a short while ago, yet dozens of fancams were already uploaded, and the comment section was exploding.
Realistically, in the thousands of comments—including those from international fans in countless languages—his single comment wouldn’t mean much to Eun-gyeol.
Even so, searching up every article and video related to Eun-gyeol and leaving affectionate, supportive comments had become second nature to Han-geon—just a natural part of his everyday routine.

Han-geon adored the actor Cha Eun-gyeol.
He was, in every sense of the word, completely immersed in the so-called “fangirling/fanboying” life.

He didn’t just watch every video and leave comments—he consumed any content related to Eun-gyeol, collected merchandise, and sometimes even attended premieres.
Aside from posting enthusiastic messages of support, he didn’t do much else, but he was still a registered member of the fan club.

At that moment, Jinwoo’s voice suddenly came from beside him.

“But what are you watching?”

“Oh, uh… a fancam from the concert we just came back from.”

Startled, Han-geon gave an awkward smile, paused the video, and took out his earbud.
Jinwoo chuckled, as if he’d expected exactly that.

“Why are you watching it again? You just saw it live a moment ago.”

“Well… just checking the atmosphere from the audience’s side…”

“Yeah, right. You’re always watching Cha Eun-gyeol’s videos.”

Hearing Jinwoo tease him with that easy grin, Han-geon felt his ears slowly turning red.
The sly tone made it sound like Jinwoo knew exactly what Han-geon was feeling.
And sure enough, a direct hit came flying in.

“You like him or something, Han-geon?”

It was a question he’d heard more times than he could count in his life.
Yet somehow, he never got used to it.
Han-geon deliberately answered in a grumbly, offhand tone.

“I’m just a fan, that’s all. Who doesn’t like Cha Eun-gyeol these days?”

“Fair enough. All the girls I know are obsessed with him. Even some Omega guys.”

“…Right… well, I guess Eun-gyeol is pretty… popular.”

“What are you talking about? You literally just said everyone likes him.”

“Ah—no, it’s not like that.”

Again, his thoughts threatened to spiral in the wrong direction.
No.
Don’t do that.
Han-geon sliced through the faintly creeping gloom as sharply as a knife and firmly put his earbud back in.
Soon, Eun-gyeol’s soft voice flowed into his ear.

Of course, Han-geon liked Eun-gyeol.
Just as he’d said in his excuse, there weren’t many people who wouldn’t like someone so perfect in both looks and acting.
There was nothing wrong with liking Cha Eun-gyeol as an actor.

But that was the limit.
No—it had to be the limit.

Cha Eun-gyeol was Choi Han-geon’s childhood friend of seventeen years.
And Eun-gyeol was an Alpha, while Han-geon was not an Omega but a Beta.

He had met Eun-gyeol for the first time in elementary school, and they had spent all their school years together.
In that sense, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say Han-geon knew almost everything about Eun-gyeol—
including things he would have preferred not to know.

For example, Eun-gyeol’s ideal type.

For all those long years, Eun-gyeol had consistently liked slender, delicate women with long, silky hair.
And that long-standing preference probably hadn’t changed even after his Alpha traits developed.

The more Han-geon dwelled on that fact, the more hollow laughter escaped him.
Every time he saw his own body in the mirror—solid, broad, and muscular—some part of his heart felt dry and brittle.

As with most unrequited feelings, the intense emotion he’d felt the very first time he faced Eun-gyeol—and the way that emotion continued to grow on its own over the years—was something he could never stop, no matter what he did.
Even if he tried to hide it.
Even if he tried to hold it back.

Seventeen years was truly a long time.
And for every one of those years they’d spent as friends, Han-geon had been in love with Eun-gyeol.
Yet despite all that time, the flames of his feelings still showed no sign of burning out.

He had tried denying it, suppressing it, even blaming himself at times.
But when he finally grew exhausted from all of that, Eun-gyeol’s debut had felt like a kind of absolution.
Even if he couldn’t love Cha Eun-gyeol as a friend, he could at least love him freely as a fan.

If people knew, it might be a little—no, a lot—ridiculous.
To “stan” a friend you’d grown up with for so long.
But there was no need to reveal that part.
In the face of Eun-gyeol’s broad public appeal, Han-geon’s affection blended in easily.
Everyone loved Cha Eun-gyeol, after all.

You said you’d see me at home later.

The sweet tone in Eun-gyeol’s voice when he’d said that earlier only stirred up Han-geon’s heart even more.
Eun-gyeol dropped by his place constantly—whenever he had free time.
Sometimes he even showed up unannounced.

He should get home quickly.
If he had gone straight home after work earlier, he’d probably already be there.
And what if the place wasn’t clean…?
What if the laundry basket was overflowing…?

“Good work today, Han-geon!”

“Hyung! Thank you for your hard work. And thank you for the ride!”

Fortunately, thanks to Jinwoo-hyung dropping him off near his place, he was able to get home quickly.

***

Han-geon hurried to the small studio apartment where he lived and fumbled to unlock the door in a rush.
If he’d known Eun-gyeol was coming, he would’ve cleaned the place first thing in the morning…

“…phew.”

Luckily, Eun-gyeol wasn’t there yet.
But he would probably arrive any moment now.
Before rushing straight inside, Han-geon lifted the box sitting by his door with ease and smiled in satisfaction.
He hadn’t expected it to arrive this fast.
The timing couldn’t have been better.

The package, covered in Chinese characters, contained herbal medicine he had ordered a few days ago.

It was so famous that even getting a consultation had taken over a month.
“This is a good tonic for someone who has a lot to worry about and gets headaches often.”
When Han-geon had said that rather vaguely, the doctor had asked detailed questions about the intended recipient’s constitution before preparing the medicine.
His budget wasn’t exactly generous, so he’d hesitated for a bit…
but in the end, he emptied the savings he had put aside and took the plunge.

After setting the herbal medicine inside, Han-geon washed his hands and charged into the kitchen.
His movements were as quick as when he’d been working at the concert just earlier.

He swiftly cleaned up the trash and emptied the overflowing laundry basket.
He checked to make sure he still had carbonated water stocked, then took out the green grapes and soaked them in vinegar water.
After that, he began peeling them.

Even while moving busily, his heart kept swelling with light, buoyant excitement, and he hummed to himself—until he suddenly froze mid-motion.

“Ah.”

He had almost forgotten the most important thing.
A chill ran down his spine as Han-geon sprinted to his computer desk.
It was his personal sanctuary—where he gamed, wrote in his journal, and relieved stress in his own way.

With frantic hands, he swept up all the photo cards lying on the desk and tossed them into the drawer.
The person on those cards was none other than Cha Eun-gyeol—the very same man he had just seen moments ago at the concert.

He tried not to buy merchandise like this, since there was always a chance Eun-gyeol might see it.
But whenever something popped up on second-hand apps like Oi Market, he couldn’t help it—he always ended up buying it as if bewitched.
It wasn’t just because it was cheap or cute.
It was because that face was precious to him, and the thought of a seller who had already lost interest treating Eun-gyeol’s photo like unwanted clutter made his heart ache.

He let out a silent sigh of relief and began to turn—

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

Rapid, unhesitating taps struck the keypad outside.
The door slowly opened.

The figure who strode in was the very person who had captivated the crowd at the concert hall only hours ago—Cha Eun-gyeol.

Without hesitation, Eun-gyeol stepped inside and removed the baseball cap he was wearing.
The small face that had been tightly hidden was revealed at once.
He pulled off his mask and tossed it carelessly with the cap before plopping down onto the folding sofa.

And immediately, Han-geon’s heart began pounding loudly—just like it had earlier when he’d been standing beside the massive sound equipment at the concert.